Hi, I'm AnonyMPC. You might remember me from such stories as "My Private Camwhore," "Relatively Powered", and "Yet Another Thing That Isn't The Next My Private Camwhore."

Well, after a long time where I was working on various stories and making very slow progress, I got hit with an idea that caught my imagination on fire. It started with the artist NeckRomancer on HF, who drew a few pieces inspired my stories, and we got to talking. An offhanded comment by me made him suggest a story idea, a SF one that had a sort of cyberpunk vibe. It was a good idea, and I'm actually a fan of old-school cyberpunk and all it's tropes, but I didn't want to tackle it. I was too busy, and too far behind, with other stuff. But it reminded me of another idea I had (based on an idea granted to me by a fellow named kludo I met in an artist's stream), also set in a cyberpunk world. And I began to toss around the idea of a set of stories set in the same city, and came up with a few ideas, and NeckRomancer suggested a couple more, and finally, I realized I was enjoying the process more than I had writing in a while, and what's more, I had 5 stories that I thought fit together pretty well, I knew exactly where they began and ended and how they fit together. They could be short, I told myself, maybe one sex scene each, so it wouldn't be too much of a distraction from my other projects. And I started writing the first, getting more work done in one day than I had in all the other stories I was working on combined in the past week, and I had that glorious feeling I hadn't had in a long time where my mind was racing with things to write even while I was asleep.

So I figured I had to stick with it, even if it meant everything else getting delayed, again, for overall output, the best strategy is sticking with the stuff I'm excited with most. I finished the first story, and am started on the second. I'm not going to officially post it to my site (http://www.asstr.org/~AnonyMPC/ if you've forgotten), or my HF page, until all five are done and cross-checked. But, because I have a history with this site, I thought I'd post them one-by-one here and here only. You can, hopefully, be my beta-test, so I can catch any major issues. This also means it'll be slightly less edited than they usually are, and I plan to tighten it up.

A few notes of things I'm especially looking for, or need to say up front: Classic cyberpunk, which I'm a fan of, doesn't really mesh perfectly with computers and the Internet as it exists today. So I've done a bit of a bastard fusion and used some handwaving of vague historical events that have altered how things work. I'm certainly willing to hear if you think anything doesn't make sense on that level (networks don
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The book was old. It was bound in a now faded leather that hinted at the color black. It had several tears that had been stitched shut, some with professional precession and some were rough and untrained. The wear and tear the tomb exhibited could not even begin to tell the tale that lay inside it's pages. If it were to be opened one would find the paper musty,stiff, and yellowed with age. Some of the pages seem to have been torn out leaving only short ragged stubs to testify for their existence. Inside the worn cover of the old book was a short paragraph of small tightly written script pinned in black ink that had long since faded to blue, it read.

“ To my Robin, my daughter, my wife, my lover. You are what kept me going all these years. Yours forever Edward.”

May 19, 1954
I have not been this excited since I was a child on Christmas morning. My name is Edward Blanton, I am twenty nine years old, and I am a ornithologist. That is a bird scientist. I follow birds, watch birds, I love birds, birds are my passion. I will record all of my findings in this journal for posterity, but first I need to explain the adventure I am currently on.

You see there is a little known rare species of bird called the Blue Pope. It is a small bird close cousin to the finch but has a interesting blue coloration that makes it unique. It nests in southern Mexico during the winter months, but no one knows where they go for the summer. The Blue Pope has one other strange quality about it that makes it special. In the small southern town where the birds nest for half the year, it is the only place in Mexico where you can find Pope Berries. The berries are not native to the area and they seem to only begin sprouting when the birds appear every season. This has lead me to believe that the two are tied together somehow.

So no one knows where these strange little birds go for the summer, no one except me. I found out where they have been hiding, on my grandfathers land in Montana. I found this out several months ago when I was going through some of my grandfathers old books and found a sprig of Pope Berries pressed between the pages of one large tomb. When I asked my mother about it she told me it was from the cabin her father owned in the mountains, and that these plants grew wild there. It is a chunk of land closed off in a hidden valley that you had to have a plane to get to. Unless you were willing to hike the two days it took to get to the old cabin and that was a long trip over rough ground.

So here I am on a train to Montanan with my last seventy five bucks in my pocket. I hope that my guess is correct and I find my little birds there.

May 21, 1954
I have walked for the last two days and have finally reached the edge of the valley. I am sitting on the rim of what I can only assume is a old volcano bowl. There is a sizable lake at the very bottom of the crater that I was t
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spiderfiend. I read this when you first posted it and loved the style in which you wrote it. I don't know why, but didn't comment at the time as I should have done, so I hope this doesn't come too late and that you still view this occasionally. Excellent story and I would love to see more from you, as I'm sure others would too. If there is anyone else out there who enjoyed this take less than 5 minutes to let the author know. Thanks again

Hey, I'm grotto and here's the current version of Two Become One. I originally wrote this story to be posted on 4chan's /d/. The version posted on Oblimo's site here ( http://oblimo.pbworks.com/w/page/5537707/Two-Become-One ) is from summer 2008, and what appears here has been edited significantly since then. Please enjoy... As always, I have many ideas for the story that I've been nursing for years, but I can't promise new chapters within any reasonable timeframe. I will post them when I write them.

-----------------------------

I

Sara sat on her bed, still not quite able to believe what she was hearing. The person beside her seemed to be a ten-year-old girl, wearing a loose gray t-shirt, short brown hair and a baseball cap. "See, feel me, I'm just like normal, right?" Sara hesitantly reached out her hand and grabbed the girl's wrist. She could feel the bones in her arm, the pulse in her veins.

"Ok, now watch." The girl leaned forward and closed her eyes. In less than a second, gigantic breasts swelled into being on her boyish frame, stretching the fabric of the t-shirt. They were ludicrously large, puffing out into mounds around her areolae - C-cups in their own right - and the nipples were clearly visible, erect, three-quarters of an inch wide. The new breasts jiggled with their own momentum as the girl gently shook them back and forth. "Feel them if you want," she said. Sara reached out a hand and patted the monster on the left. It yielded and swayed around a bit. She began to knead, feeling the soft, warm boob tissue, not any different from her own except for the size. Still disbelieving, Sara reached down and tweaked the prominent, hard nipple. It was a firm nub, yielding a bit to her when squeezed, different from the soft breast tissue. The girl let out a squeak of laughter.

"That's too odd," said Sara. "It's not just boobs," said the girl. For a split second, her body lost all its detail, decohering in a blobby mass. She reformed a second later. Now the girl had deep red hair, tied back in a ponytail, wisps escaping to float in the afternoon sun that came down through the window. Gone were the ludicrous breasts. Her face was vaguely similar to before, but now she seemed to be six or seven years older. The T-shirt and jeans had become a beautiful dark green velvet dress, matching her eyes, cut to expose a hint of pearly cleavage. Although she was hardly recognizable, she had the same playful glint in her eyes.

"I can control pretty much everything about myself." the girl said. "Feel the dress." Sara reached out and took some fabric, rubbed it in between her fingers. It felt like fine fuzzy velvet. The girl smiled. "That's as much a part of me as my body or my
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You just click a blank option you want to use, click accept, and paste in your episode. Then all you gotta do is check some boxes and write in some other things (episode title, continuation options, etc).

Anyways, grotto's incomplete chapter 7 isn't added yet. We'll have to wait until that's finished before anyone can do anything involving those events.

It had been 90 days and nights passed since Tai’s first moonblood, and the little oriental slave had had two more since. Lord Edward and Lady Sylvia were very eager for the coming night: it was the night that they could take her into their bed for breeding. As a slave girl, there were limits as to how Tai could be used, set down by tradition and practicality, that Edward and Sylvia generally obeyed: as soon as she was able to walk, she was diddled, and taught to lap Sylvia’s pussy like a kitten. Later on, when she was in her 6th or 7th summer, she was taught to fellate by Edward, and even though she could barely fit the tip of his penis in her tiny mouth, he managed to teach her how to swallow his thick load without gagging. She was an eager student, and took to the lessons gladly, using her newfound knowledge to suck the little boy slaves to orgasm after orgasm when she was penned beside them.

She was a sex object, but she had never been truly bred as a whore. Tradition forbade the masters of the manor from taking her as a true mount until the 7th night from her 3rd moonblood. How they ached to take the slim, sinewy, fallow, coconut cream colored oriental girl to her bed, to spitroast her between their aching genitals, as they copulated like animals, filling her with their lust juices, and bringing her to orgasm after eye rolling orgasm. The entire week leading up to this night, they had taken every opportunity to molest and violate Tai, without actually bringing her to climax. With her hands bound behind her, and with no objects to relieve herself on in the bedroom pen where she was kept, she could only suffer the molestations, her thighs glistening with the juices of her sex, as she was kept in a constant state of arousal.

Even though there was no tradition compelling them to do so, the lord and lady of the house also refrained from satisfying themselves in the week leading up to their slaves defloration, so as to take special pleasure in the occasion when it finally arrived. This was especially hard for them, as given their standing, they were particularly accustomed to relieving their sexual urges at will, with any slave who happened to be handy. So throughout the week, the master and mistress were in a constantly visible state of arousal, mistress’s milk white thighs shiny with the juices of her constantly leaking sex, and master’s trousers showing a conspicuous bulge throughout the day.

On this, the 98th day, they had a feast, both to celebrate the taking of Tai’s maidenhead, and to sustain them: once the sun went down, the mating would continue to their absolute exhaustion. It was not unknown for such couplings to last a week without anyone emerging from the bedchamber for food. The young slave was fed at the table with master and mistress, and ate the same
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Name’s Ed. Edward to my parents. Ed to everyone who doesn’t treat me like a four-year-old piece of shit. My story isn’t particularly a normal one, although I guess if it was, it wouldn’t be much of a story. But I guess you’re wondering what the super, awesomely amazing thing that I have taken the time out of my day to tell is. Well, it kind of is amazing, but all good things come to an end. But, I’ll get to that later. Don’t want to ruin the story before it’s even started, do I?

The Creeper. Quite an apt name to describe myself, to be perfectly honest, even if it does contain a bold resemblance to the giant green penises within that god-awful game called Minecraft. Ahem, anyway, the name is kind of related to my story. Or completely related, I guess. You see, throughout my life, I’ve been a bit of a creep. Not in a complete beta-fag, following girls around with pit stains and braces, trailing them until they recognise my existence kind of way. In fact, to be completely honest with you, I’ve never been bad with girls. I mean, I lost my virginity at 13, so I guess that’s not too bad of an achievement, eh? Anyway, enough bragging. The reason for the name is sort of derived from my ahh… hobbies. Ever since I got my first phone (or at least, phone with the nifty little camera on it), I’ve been a fan of taking creep shots. Y’know, sneaking dirty pics of people in public without their knowledge or consent, to then take back to my home and have a glorious fap to. Weird, but nothing too abnormal to create a story about, right? Wrong.

Taking creep shots is generally looked down upon, but to some people it’s a good thing. It helps other people to get their dick hard, so it’s really a good thing. Although, the sort of creep shots I take probably shouldn’t be shared with anyone. Ever. But I’m fine with that. I’m generally quite a selfish person anyway. But I can hear your voices screaming at me to tell you the mystery shots that I could possibly take. I assume a lot of you have guessed this already anyway, but I’ll comply nonetheless. They are girls. Little girls. Lolis. Whatever you want to calm them. I would hover around parks and wait for these girls in short skirts to reveal their cute little butts after swinging around on the monkey bars. Oh the panties. They were perhaps the biggest turn on for me. Pink was best. The girlier the better. And there I’d be, with my phone out, sneaking every shot possible. Then I would travel home just awaiting that amazing fap.

Anyway, you know the name, but not the game. So, I’ll tell you my story. I guess the best place to start would be when I was 13. At this point, I wasn’t even remotely close to being interested in little girls. I was simply interested in any girl my own age, much like any other guy. Ironically, it was the involvement with a girl my own age that actually got me into girls much younger
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The girls were clearly ready for some 'Ed time' the following week, and Sara seemed to like pushing bathtime as early as she could. She requested 'help' again, so I went with her while Ellie went to work with my phone.

Sara campaigned for company in the bath tub, but as I told her sister, it would not go well if her mother returned early and found us both wet. But the girls had apparently already cooked up a strategy for handling that eventuality: Ellie would manage the door chain, distract her mother for a bit, and I would only be wet from the waist down, so I could quickly get dry and get dressed. Long story short: I was talked into it.

I was well aware that her request was most likely just an excuse to study me in all my naked glory, but I played along. I sat at the back of the tub, and Sara sat in the middle, facing me. I had to remind her not to splash, or even move too suddenly; I was determined to stay as dry as possible, just in case. All knowledge of how to bathe herself seemed to have mysteriously drained out of her brain, so the task fell to me. I soaped up the thin flannel washcloth and washed her face, arms and torso while she sat. She rinsed, and then turned round to a kneeling position, jutting her cute little butt back ever so slightly toward me.

More soap on the flannel, and then one thigh got a thorough scrubbing, especially the inner portion. Sara dipped down into the water, then demanded "Again!" Three passes later, she was ready for the other leg. After a similar treatment, she waggled her butt, which got soaped next, and then my hand dipped between her legs. Her favorite spot demanded attention for several minutes, by which time Mr. Stiffy was standing at attention, too.

Sara finally turned around toward me, and announced, "Now I'll wash you." There was no doubt as to what her target was. Without bothering with soap, she wrapped the washcloth around my cock and slid her hand up and down it. Her other hand gave it a go as well, without bothering with the washcloth, and her next experiment laced her fingers together and applied a two-handed stroke up and down.

"Ed?" Sara questioned, after a few minutes of exploration. "I wanna do what we did to you last week." I gave a little questioning grunt; after all, there was a LOT that they did last week. "You know, in-terror-gate you," she clarified boldly, if somewhat badly. Without really waiting for permission, she turned around again and sat in my lap, maneuvering my cock between her legs and then clamping her thighs tightly around it. She tensed her muscles to generate a little friction, but even when I slipped my hand between her thighs and pressed my cock more solidly against her pussy, it was
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On my next visit, both girls were excited to show me their new secret treasures. The past weekend, their mother had done some pruning of all the clothes closets and drawers, creating a donation pile, adding some pieces to their rag collection, and disposing of the rest. The girls had retrieved most of what had gone into the bin, some things from the rag bag, and even some select items that were slated for donation. But this evening, they just wanted help with a pair of denim cutoffs.

These had started life as Ellie's jeans, and turned into shorts when her growth spurt made the legs obviously too short. They were well-loved and well-worn, so much so that they didn't even qualify as hand-me-downs and had been tossed. Ellie had attempted to prune them into a style she had seen on the internet, but was stymied as soon as her scissors came to one of the heavy 4-ply seams, which were more than a match for her tiny hands. So now it was up to me to sculpt them, as per her vision.

The shorts and even the scraps would have to go home with me, since what she had in mind was entirely inappropriate for a girl her age. Ellie wanted them high-cut on the sides, leaving about half the front pockets exposed, and barely half of her ass cheeks covered. She wanted the gusset to be little more than the center seam itself, but I talked her into leaving about an inch and a half, promising that I would unravel the threads at the margins, turning it into white fringe. She was familiar with that style, and liked the idea, though she was disappointed that the transformation would necessarily take time. But in short order she had some seriously immodest booty shorts that I was certain would be featured in her upcoming video production.

Soon after Ellie thundered up the stairs with my phone, Sara came down for a visit. I was stretched out almost prone on the big sofa, but rather than taking her normal place at the opposite end, she sat nearby on the coffee table. She was wearing a shiny satin-y red skirt, which if I am any judge was probably part of a Supergirl Halloween costume. The tiny skirt covered very little, but just to be sure, Sara cocked one knee up and planted her foot on the couch cushion, simultaneously letting her other thigh drift wide.

What she had on underneath was eye-catching, to say the least. The gauzy white fabric didn't cover much in the first place, and her stance improved the lighting so that the details along the valley between her bulging peach halves were very much on display. I found out later that this was one of their mother's discards: a thong that had been so low-cut that it looked natural on Sara's small frame. The thin but oversized waist had been modified by the simple expedient of tripling the fabric at the sides, and stapli
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Twelve-year-old Susan found a magic marker on her way home from the swimming pool with her older brother Keith. As a joke, he wrote "smelly feet" on her, and she noticed her feet actually did smell... a smell which stopped when the mark wore off. This convinced her the marker really was magic, that everything written on someone with the marker became true... from "smelly feet", to the word "jerk" she wrote on her brother, to "super horny" which he wrote on her as a joke once he became a jerk. More marks followed, growing steadily more sexual, culimating in Keith turning Susan into his own personal fuck toy and making their parents have complete faith in him. Although she was thoroughly enjoying the incestuous sex, Susan had been counting on things returning to normal when "jerk" mark wore off his body, only to find he rewrote the mark on himself, because he liked who he'd become and what he'd gotten out of it.

***

Oh, and this is the first thing I've posted that I wrote while livestreaming my writing, as such, there are some ideas or lines or outfits directly from viewers... I didn't keep track of who or what parts specifically, but I do owe a general acknowledgement.

So, like many late-twenty-somethings in this economy, I find myself living with a roommate, and there are times when I legitimately loathe the man. We are actually fairly close friends, and we have a lot in common, as well as a lot of shared experience. We live in the same shitty apartment, we worked the same shitty job for years, which is how we met, and since we requested going on opposite shifts to get some time away from one another, our relationship has improved significantly. I don't truly hate the guy, but I don't spend more time than I have to with him. Fortunately, he seems to feel the same way, so we mostly just shoot the shit about wrestling, watch the pay-per-views together, and retreat to our respective rooms to get the fuck away from one another.

He's not such a bad guy in small doses, and there aren't many people who understand my love for the WWE like Paul does. He actually worked the indy circuit for a while, so we can connect on that level at least. He's still a paranoid motherfucker about money, but I pay well in advance, and we no longer split any bills except rent, electricity and internet. I may order out or he may order out, we may both even order out on the same night, but we no longer order out together. I have accepted that he will never do the dishes, he has accepted that I will never allow his drunken, virus-downloading, morbidly obese ass on my expensive office chair so he can destroy my operating system by visiting sketchy porn sites, or allow him to bum off my weed. If he wants to hit from my bowl, he needs to pitch in for the cost. On the flip side, I have accepted that I can only smoke up in my room since his daughter is over pretty much all the time. Her mother fucked off shortly after Kelly turned two. Last I'd heard, she'd gotten picked up for solicitation along with various drug charges. She wasn't up for parole for another seven years yet.

Paul was oddly clever for one so clearly controlled so exclusively by his hindbrain, but he had to take his time chewing each thought over before it was ready to be shared the way he meant it. He never forgot a thing, and he would hold on to thoughts to worry at them for hours, days, or even weeks. A grudge, he usually nursed no less than a week, and every time we argued I could count on Paul to bring up all sorts of old shit, but his ability to focus on a thought and fully break it down was impressive, and he would remember fun conversations too. He had great taste in movies, old blues and jazz and funk, and he could throw together a shockingly tasty meal with just about anything we had lying around the house. When he was sober, he could hold his own on topics close to his heart, and he made some connections that truly impressed me. Every now and then, often days or sometimes weeks after a conversation, he'd say something truly profound. He could also be really funny. Paul usually got two brilliant j
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First off. This is a repost of a story posted on /elit/ back in 2010 and updated last in 2012. You can find a link to the original archived thread here:
https://web.archive.org/web/20130917094523/http://7chan.org/elit/res/10610.htmlThis is a repost without permission, but not for lack of trying. I contacted the original author (Fluffins) through e-mail four days ago and haven't gotten any response. Maybe this will bring about a reappearance? I can only hope as much.

Below is the original text of the story, formatted identically to how it was originally posted.

First time writer here, r&r, plzkthx.
Contains: All futa, All underage
(remember, boys and girls, pedophilia is illegal in the US, only fap to it, never do it IRL)

Nov. 12, 2010.
Hi, My name is Faith Woods, I’m 14 years old, shoulder-length straight red hair, still-growing B cup breasts, perfect 6.5:1 hip:waist ratio (I’m kind of a math nerd), I'm 5 feet tall with a healthy does of freckles, and I’m not a normal girl. I mean, I try to be normal. I go to a regular middle school, have normal friends and a totally normal family… it’s me that isn’t totally normal. And hell, I didn’t even know I was abnormal ‘till about a week ago.
See, last Wednesday night, I grew a dick.
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Short little prelude chapter, just to keep you boys on the edge of your seats ;)

Two hours later, I awoke to a very odd experience. My alarm hadn’t gone off, though a quick glance over to my nightstand told me I hadn’t overslept, this, however, was not my first concern. I was a bit more preoccupied with the tongue sliding down my throat and the hand caressing my cock through my sheets. I’m not complaining or anything; I quickly recognized it as Hope, and I sank softly into her lips, wrapping my own tongue around hers, holding tight, I moaned gently into her mouth, she squeezed tight on my dick and pulled away, saliva stringing between our pouting lower lips.
“what a way to wake up~” I giggled softly.
“I thought you’d like it.” my big sister smiled sweetly at me and grabbed my hand, lifting me up so she could cradle my body in her arms and kiss me again. “did you enjoy the show last night?” I blushed at her blatant statement
“h-how did you know?”
“you painted the walls outside my room, silly. It makes it so much hotter to know you were watching me and mom get it on like that.” she kissed me again, “mom’s washing my sheets now while breakfast cooks, come on!” she giggled and pulled me out of bed, I nearly fell as she pulled me swiftly to my feet, she let me swing forward and I nearly screamed as I felt myself falling before her arm caught me gently behind the back and lowered me into a dip, as if we were dancing. I panted heavily, my heart pounding, she just smiled and winked at me, lifting me up into yet another sensual kiss. I moaned as she held me tight, my arms folded up to my chest, held between our breasts as she kissed me. I felt my cock going hard and lifting up from where it spilled out over the waistband of my panties. As my cock rose, it rubbed along Hope’s, which was doing the same.
“j-j-just let me…” I broke our kiss and turned around, about to open the drawer, when my sister’s strong arms wrapped around my bare waist, pulling me back,
“but mom is so eager to see your dick~” she said, gliding a finger across the tip of my pole, it twitched in response to her touch, “Cherry’s gone for the rest of the week, remember? It’s just us three here” she wrapped her fingers around the base of my dick, I hadn’t even bothered to control the size, so Hope pinched at the base and shook her hand up and down, causing all fourteen inches of my member to wobble up and down, “come on, you don’t need any clothes.”
I walked into the kitchen blushing profusely, my enormous member sticking straight up, wobbling with every step, it wasn’t even as big as Hope’s, who had gone before me, but I was still nervous, I felt exposed, unprotected as I stepped forward to see my mother, wearing nothing save for a chef’s apron, standing over a pan on the stove. As I came in, she looked over at me, and I saw her nipples immediately going hard u
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[NGT again. Nine months passed between the previous post and this one. Shortly after the previous post, Fluffins mentioned having writer's block with this particular story, posted an email, and said that they'd consider handing the story off to someone else for a time, or even for good. I do not know if anyone applied, since Fluffins updated later on anyways.
Prior to this, Fluffins reappeared in another thread posting an RP log featuring the character of Faith. I replied to that thread asking if it was canon to Leap of Faith, and a couple of days later, this was posted. It's also the last update, but the thread was bumped for a year and a half before it ever 404'ed.]

oh look, it's this guy again....
[cuminflation] probably should have been applied about 2 chapters ago, but eh. it's not too severe.

enjoy.

And so... I fucked my mom.
I mean, what do you do when you've got a raging 14 inch hardon and a big, curvy woman gets on her hands and knees and pushes her glorious ass out towards you? I placed a tentative hand into the pale, soft flesh, feeling it give under my fingers, I gripped at my mom's juicy cheeks, gulping and sweating in both fear and anticipation. Her slit was obviously hungry; it slavered like a starved dog, dripping down her thighs, making them slick and wet, pooling into a glistening little puddle on the floor. I heard her panting, breath shuddering in ragged gasps out of her lips, she looked back. I think it was just the idea that her 14 year old daughter was about to fuck her senseless than anything that was making her horny; my dick could have been 2 inches and she still would have gotten off.
All the better for her: my dick isn't 2 inches. My head slipped into her hole effortlessly. I felt the tight walls clench over the big, fat, purple tip of my erection, and my rod just kept slipping in. deeper and deeper; her cunt was totally bottomless! I ran balls deep into her with no trouble, and yet those walls still pulsed and gripped tight at my shaft the whole time. She had so much control, my mother actually sent waves; rolling ripples of pressure down her pink canal, sucking me in with this constant current, I couldn't manage to pull my hips back but a few inches before her cunt sucked me in again, slapping my hips into hers, sending a ripple down her ass and ejecting a moan or a 'fuck~' from her lips.
I closed my eyes, breath hissing in deep gasps as I fucked her little cunt almost involuntarily. Suddenly, there was a presence at my back; hands on my shoulders, I felt the warmth of my big sister's breasts pressing on my shoulderblades, the burning, pulsing heat of her cock rubbed along my spine teasingly from behind. The trickle of her breath down my ear was hot and tingly, and sent a chill down my back, 'nnhhh~' I couldn't keep myself from moaning.
“having fun?” she a
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I decided I may as well share what I write when I decide to write something. Most of it will be Futa on Male but anything with MaleSub in it will be included. Anyway, here's the first one involving a dominant Futa and her apparent bitch.

The phone rang.
I don't know why, but there was always this sense of anticipation and dread I have with picking it up. Not knowing who it was and knowing who it could be was almost a game of Russian Roulette I had with myself. Now, it happened almost daily. I picked up the phone Gun to my head - pull the trigger. "Hey there, moll" a feline, scratchy yet appeasingly seductive voice replied, female in nature.
Boom."Uuuuh, hey… Tash." I responded, not unnerved but unhappy. "Parents are gone. Come around" she demanded in a domineering tone. "Uuuhh, look, Tash… I don't know about today, it's not really a good t-" "Come around" she repeated, cutting me off. "Tash, I was just about to say that I don't really want to because I'm really busy, and… you know"
There was a disenchanting silence - shredding any hope of worming my way out.
Defeat."No. I don't. Come arooound" she said again, this time with the last word drawn out, as if she sounded wanting, but not desperate. "I know you really, really want to" she claimed, her voice thinning to an innocent tone. She was pulling all the strings for this one. She usually did. "I just-"
"Come around"
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